Eye Of The Day
by Drakyndra
Summary: I am a spy and a traitor. I am Matahari, the eye of the day." We all know that Voldemort killed Dorcas Meadowes. But who was she really? And why?


**Author's Notes:** Some explanation is required for parts of this fic. "Matahari" was the pseudonym of a very famous spy for the Germans in World War 2. She was executed for treason, and legend has it she blew a kiss to the executors before she was shot. "Mata hari" is also Indonesian for the sun, or more literally "Eye of the day." It was from combining these ideas - a female spy going willingly to death, the sun, the phrase "eye of the day," and the fact that we know so little about Dorcas Meadowes that I came up with this story.

**Disclaimer: **To quote _Something For Kate, _"I don't want to be a complainer, or a bastard with a ten page disclaimer"  
I own nothing but the idea. Characters, settings, background all belongs to JK Rowling.

****

**Eye of the Day  
**  
I am a spy and a traitor. I am Mata Hari, the eye of the day.  
  
And today I shall die.  
  
I will not plead. I will not beg for forgiveness. For there is no such thing as forgiveness amongst the Death Eaters: there is only payment. And the price of betrayal is paid in blood.  
  
My blood, my life, is to be forfeit for my sins. For the ultimate sin: treason. I have heard that even in the Muggle world, treason is punishable with death. So it comes as no surprise that I am to be killed.  
  
And not just killed: I am to be made into an example. The Dark Lord himself will kill me. Dozens will see me die. The spy shall be punished, tortured and battered and beaten. For they don't want to see merely payment: they want to see justice.  
  
They want to see me broken and bleeding, pleading for mercy. They want to see me in pain. They want to see me fear them. They want to see something, anything, that shows that I am weak. That I am weak and foolish and stupid, and that is why I have betrayed them.  
  
But I am not weak. I am not foolish or stupid. I do not fear them. And I do not fear death.  
  
I am Mata Hari, the eye of the day. I am brilliant and shining and strong, and I will not be broken.  
  
And that is why they fear me. I am stronger than them – than any of them. If they look at me, they will be blinded. No matter what they do to me, I will never fall, I will never weaken. I will be remembered, whilst they will fade away like ashes and dust, forgotten.  
  
And none of them understand why.  
  
I was one of them once. I came from the same families. I played with them as a child. I shared a room at school. I wore the silver and green and cheered at the Quidditch matches. I heard the stories of a saviour, come to rescue us from the Muggle filth. I listened and joined and obeyed. I fought and killed and tortured with them.  
  
But I am one of them no more.  
  
And that frightens them.  
  
I escaped. I am free. I am independent. And they aren't.  
  
They might not see things that way. Many – most – are happy with their lives now. They are happy serving, obeying the every whim of their so- called master. They truly believe in his cause, believe what they are doing is right. So they will willingly serve and fight and kill and die for the Dark Lord.  
  
They have settled as mere servants. Minions, lackeys, foot soldiers in the Dark Lord's army. But whatever happened to Slytherin, the house of ambition? They – we – never aspired to be second best.  
  
I am Mata Hari, the eye of the day. And I will follow no man and no cause. I am no one's servant.  
  
I am free. And nobody can ever take that from me.  
  
Blind fools that they are, they think that if – or when – they win, they will rule the earth. They actually think that the Dark Lord will share even the faintest amount of his power! So they bow and scrape to him, and in so doing, lose all the strength they have.  
  
But I would never let myself be used in that way. I clung to my freedom, my strength. And I escaped. I took their power, secrets and lies, and held it up for the Light to see.  
  
But I would be no slave to the Light either. I joined their Order and heard their meetings, but I take no orders from them. What I am is too precious to control – their only insight into the circles of the Death Eaters.  
  
They too watch me with fear, for I hold a power that they cannot touch.  
  
And the Dark Lord and his underlings have the nerve to call me weak!  
  
I might be a spy and a traitor, but I have a power that they do not. I have more power than they can ever understand. I am valued and precious, and they are little more than slaves. I am needed, and they are vermin.  
  
I am Mata Hari, the eye of the day. I am the side of Light's glimpse into the Dark. Without me, they can see nothing, know nothing. I am the sun, and I light up the world for all to see.  
  
And when I die, I will be born again. I will be replaced. Without their sun, their eye into the Death Eaters, all the struggles of the Light are futile. They need me to survive. And after my death, the Light will search again for another sun, another eye of the day. Another spy.  
  
I have begun something that will live on for much longer than my own life.  
  
And this is why they fear me. Because I have power and they have none. Because I am free, and they are trapped. Because I am needed, and they are replaceable. Because I am beautiful and shining, and they are nothing.  
  
So they will torture me. They will cage me, so as to take away my freedom. They will defile and disgrace me, in hope of tarnishing my radiance. They will abuse me, to make me feel unwanted. They will hurt me, make me beg, to put me in _their _power.  
  
But they can never take my freedom, my radiance, my power. All their plans and schemes will come to nothing. Because I am so much more than they are. They cannot even touch me anymore.  
  
I am Mata Hari, the eye of the day. I go to my death, shining and strong.  
  
And I will die with a smile on my face.


End file.
